There is a word in Romanian dor that has the same meaning. Oddly, I've felt this feeling for places I didn't grow up, but which are part of childhood memory. In particular, Long Island, where my father's parents lived when I was a kid. We visited there most summers during the whole month of August and spent time on the beach nearly every day, visited family friends, and enjoyed various things you couldn't get out here in Seattle, like local ice cream brands, the shape of butter on the east coast (which was different from that on the west coast), etc. And of course my grandparents' house and little out buildings, the Shop where my grandfather did most of his wood working and oil painting on canvas, and the tool shed (far less interesting to me).